Damien And Farfarello
by Lady Estel
Summary: Farfarello is put in an asylum in Ireland, for reasons best known to Crawford. He meets a boy very similar to himself. DEATH?


I could get out if I want. However, not today. It is a bit cold and the birds will tell. Though they can't talk: they can give the game away. They taste nice and amuse me greatly, even if they shit on me. It's very late. I think the warden has the box plugged in. I can hear his favourite program, the Teletubbies, a load of old bollocks if you ask me. I can't in the life of me understand how the English can like them so much. They can't even talk sense; mind you they give God a headache so there's a bonus.  
  
I suppose it's now one in the morning. I know that because the birds have a thing with singing at that moment. Underneath my fringe I can see at least seven shagging. Not a pretty sight and it makes you wonder why they do it in the open, a bit like dogs really.and cats and humans I suppose. I'd better get some sleep. However, if one bird even thinks about shitting on me. I will rip off the wings and ram them where God and the sun won't shine.  
  
7am, Someone's noisy. I bet it's that old guy again. He always tries to get out. I see him now; he's trying to hurt old-fatty-warden. It's very amusing how two old men-old AND fat men-struggle to stop the other from escaping. I'll leave them to it. I'm still planning to get out. Oh! One of those bloody pigeons has got me on my shoulder. Right dinnertime! Come here you fucking fat feathery brainless shit heads!  
  
12pm, Someone new's coming, or so I heard. I'm actually waiting to hear a scream.nothing. Maybe I should wait a little longer; I'm bound to hear something. I've been waiting for ten minutes - a damned lie. I'll get Frogs he'll wish was never born. Oh! Wait what's this a silver haired youth, or an elderly man who still keeps in shape? I don't know, I've been here for 5 years and already I've gotten used to these four walls- there like my old rooms' blank, only one window and I can't open my door.  
  
This newbie is turning to face me. I wonder what I'll think of the guy. Time to see.  
  
The minute Farfarello turned around, he found himself staring at a young man of his age with long copper hair that reached the shoulder blades and almost white, blue eyes. This guy was looking at him interestingly, he had a pigeon on his shoulder, and he too was in a straightjacket. For two minutes all they did was look at each other, psycho, to psycho. The warden broke their eye contact.  
  
'Angelo, I see your making new friends.' The boy known as 'Angelo' glared at the warden, his almost silver eyes piercing the man's heart.  
  
'It's Damien.' Then to himself he muttered 'Moron'  
  
Farfarello noted the accent and begun to see if he knew Gaelic.  
  
'Dia Dhuit.' To his delight, Damien spoke back.  
  
'Dia is Muire duit. Cad is aimn duit?'  
  
'Is mise Farfarello.'  
  
'Is mise Damien O'Dochartaigh.'  
  
'What the.' the warden hadn't realised that both men knew their native language.  
  
He walked off, confused and taking the time to watch his favourite episodes of porn.  
  
'I don't know how he understands Porn when he watches the Teletubbies. Mind you, anyone who watches teletubbies use porn to remind themselves of real life.' Farfarello nodded in agreement. Damien's eyes fascinated him- so did Damien with his.  
  
How can he have those eyes, they look like moons, it's so damn annoying.  
  
How did he lose his eye, I wonder. Those scars interest me too- warrior of a war or suicidal scum. On the other hand, could he be a man who despises god, like me.  
  
They stared like this until two men appeared with white coats, followed by a priest.  
  
'Who's going?' asked Damien. The priest gave him a puzzled look.  
  
'Why you are, my child.' Shock came across the boy's features. He gave Farfarello one longing look before they unbuckled his straightjacket.  
  
'Bloody hell, how'd they come in, Jeff?' remarked the one guy in the suit to the other, he was talking of the pigeons.  
  
'He probably owned 'em once, Bob.' Taking Damien with them, they went past Farfarello's cell. As Damien reached the cell, he leant in and kissed Farfarello on the lips.  
  
'Slán, Farfarello.' He whispered before allowing them to take him away.  
  
Farfarello was still standing there, staring at Damien's old window, listening to the chants of 'The priest's gonna get it.' Was he a priest once? What did he do wrong to come here, to finally die? Why.why kiss him? Did he like him or did he feel that he could stop him from being frightened? Turning to face the glass window beside him, he called out to the guy next to him.  
  
'Was Damien a priest?' Frogs answered back.  
  
'Ay, yer honour. An' from wot I 'eard a bloody good'un. He supposedly stopped when some git raped 'im an' 'e begun to realise that God ain't listening anymore an' 'e killed the 'hole of 'is family. 5 years ago now.' Oh, thought Farfarello. And he sat down, thinking.  
  
Now here I am, an ex-priest, walking down the corridor. Towed by two men and a priest, he doesn't know god won't listen to him. He's older than me though, he SHOULD KNOW! Poor Farfarello, all alone, and I could have known him better. I'm going to miss him. I hope he gets out of here soon.  
  
Here we are. My last seat. On the electric chair we go. Good grief, not comfy is it. I didn't mean to go out like this. Oh well, God's won the battle, But if I'm correct with that sweetie Farfie, he'll not win the war. The switch is on. 'I'LL SEE YOU ALL IN HELL!!'  
  
All was quiet in Farfarello's corridor. Even the warden heard it. The pigeons had flown off. Sitting silently in the cell, he waited. Schuldig appeared, knocked out the guard and unlocked Farfarello's cage. 'Hello, ready to go?' He nodded and stretched his arms as his jacket was pulled off. 'Come on then!' Giving the place one last look, Farfarello softly whispered  
  
'Slán. Damien and Angelo, may you rest in peace my friends.' Then went.  
  
Finally, that little shit in mine mind is gone forever, now I shall be free. Soon I will find you again Farfarello and we will end God's life, together.  
  
Author's notes: I don't own Farf and Schu. The translations Dia dhuit: Hello. Dia is muire dhuit: Hello (in response) Cad is ainm duit. : What is your name? Is mise. I am. Slán: Goodbye.  
  
I must be honest, I don't know much Gaelic, and I took these from a phrasebook. 


End file.
